


Alternatively

by TenementFunster



Category: The Mighty Boosh (TV)
Genre: ? probably, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-23
Updated: 2019-04-23
Packaged: 2020-01-25 15:48:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,432
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18577609
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TenementFunster/pseuds/TenementFunster
Summary: Howard is upset and Vince clarifies a few things.





	Alternatively

**Author's Note:**

> So this is loosely based on the bit at the end of live at brixton where Howard isn’t invited to the after party.
> 
> I say loosely because I kinda deviated from whatever I set out to write.

Once again, Howard had been completely unaccounted for when plans had been made. This was typical of Vince and the others - he didn’t know why he’d expected this time to be any different. Every single time this happened and yet, every single time he’d think to himself, “Next time will be different.” Yet here he was.

Normally, Howard would be quite partial to being ignored by anyone and everyone. He would enjoy the silence for once. Listening to people natter on about subjects he couldn’t care less about could get tiring, and boy did he do a lot of that. Being left alone this time was different however. This time it felt off. Not that he could quite place what that feeling was, mind.

He was currently strewn across the sofa in the upstairs of the Nabootique. One of his jazz records had been playing but he was too busy feeling sorry for himself to bother flipping it over. Despite finally having time to himself and even being able to play his own music aloud without the ridicule of the others, Howard couldn’t help but feel discontent with his situation.

Today was supposed to have been one of the most enjoyable days of his life. Given that he’d been on stage in front of hundreds of people, he believed that his journey on the path of becoming the actor had subsequently begun and that was something he’d always been planning on. The day had even been spent with his best friend, no less.

Over the years, he had become skeptical of the title “Best Friend”. Being unable to grasp the purpose of the term when Vince was, in fact, his _only_ friend. On the other hand, Vince had many friends. A feat Howard was only silently jealous of. _That probably hadn’t even taken such into account when deciding where the after party would be anyway_ , he tried to convince himself.

Howard wondered whether Vince so much as considered him a friend - nevermind “best friend”. After all, Bob Fossil had been invited in his place and he knew full well Vince’s opinion of their former boss. _Fossil hadn’t even been allowed in the building when he turned up at “my” party, why would he be invited to the after party? Was it something I said?_ He still had no clue.

With the numbing silence and confused thoughts conflicting with one another, Howard had been too lost in his own bubble to even realise that he was crying.

Wiping his face with the back of his hand, tears streamed down his face faster than he could keep up with. Though completely involuntary, he didn’t attempt to stop. Howard couldn’t remember the last time he’d cried in regards to another person. Though he tended to internalise his emotions, he couldn’t prevent it this time, it needed to come out somehow.

Every other time he’d been left out of plans by Naboo and/or Bollo, he’d just get on with life, maybe watch some documentaries or just go to sleep. Now that Vince had not only disregarded him, but invited others instead, Howard felt alone. He curled his legs up against his chest and tightly hugged one of the cushions, his tears seeping into it.

Just as he was closing his eyes, possibly beginning to calm down, he was thrown back into a state of panic at the sound of the shop door opening downstairs. Howard quickly checked the clock to see that it was hardly even midnight yet, and the others surely wouldn’t be back until the early hours of the morning. He didn’t even bother moving, just wiped the remaining residue from his eyes and shoved his face deeper into the pillow.

The noise of those particular shoes shuffling up the stairs was all too familiar to Howard, but he couldn’t place why. Whoever it was, they managed stumbled several times on their way and proceeded to angrily swear at said stairs each time until they reached the top. The room was promptly illuminated after they tried, several times, to operate a lightswitch. Stopping, they scanned the room and let out a sigh before idly wandering over to the kitchen in pursuit of the fridge.

Howard was then acutely aware that he’d been holding his breath since he’d heard the door open, almost as though he’d been expecting some kind of intruder. He kept his face deep within the cushion, which turned out to not have been the best idea when the “intruder” decided to tap him on the back.

“You alright, Howard?” The voice seemed to be laced with genuine sympathy, which was often unheard from the person the voice belonged to. Vince.

Gathering himself back together to the best of his ability, Howard replied. “I’m fine. Now sod off.” His voice somewhat cracking as he attempted to speak louder.

Vince attempted to change the subject in hopes that he might get somewhere, “Came home early tonight, thought we’d have a night in, but you clearly aren’t in the mood for that.” Howard ignored him.

Due to the silence, he became attentive to a slight and occasional scratching sound. Quickly putting two and two together, Vince figured it was the record player. Moving the needle to the side, he picked up the record and spun it round to play the other side. Jazz. Howard’s ears pricked up and confusion was evident in his tone, “I thought you hated my music?”

“I do, you batty crease. Just knew I’d get your attention with that.”

“Well you’ve got my attention now. What do you want it for?” Howard’s face was sunken back into the sofa now.

Vince seemed to have carefully thought of his words beforehand as he seemed more confident in his approach, “Well, I feel kinda shit for not inviting you out all the time…”

“It’s not my kind of thing.” Howard interjected.

Vince immediately responded, “So? I don’t want you feeling left out. Believe it or not, Howard, I care about you!”

Howard wasn’t entirely sure what to say. The fact that Vince cared about him- no, admitted to caring about him, was something he couldn’t quite grasp. He looked up to where Vince was still standing, next to the record player.

“Howard, have you been crying, mate?” He questioned, seemingly startled.

“I, Howard Moon, man of action, crying? Seems unlikely.”

“Your eyes are all red ‘n that. Either that or you’re off your tits.” Vince tried lightening the mood.

“Definitely not the latter, thank you.” Howard defended.

They remained in an awkward silence for a prolonged moment which seemed to last forever.

“You do feel lonely, don’t you? Even though it in’t your thing, you feel like you belong wi’ us, eh?” Vince had been experiencing a lingering feeling of regret since he’d decided against inviting Howard to their after party. He could tell exactly why he felt this way, he just wouldn’t admit it to himself.

“Why should that bother me? I could’ve turned up regardless.”

“I knew you wouldn’t though, Howard. You’re so law abiding that it probably would have killed you.” Vince found it difficult to remain serious for any prolonged period of time. Practically straining himself, he continued. “I was right about the first part though, yeah?”

Dodging the question, Howard decided to flip the conversation around. “Why are you back so early? Tell the truth this time.” There was a slight inflection of fear and yet somehow, also hope in his words.

“Frankly, I’m fed up’a you being so moody all the flippin’ time. I don’t want you to feel alone, mate. You’ve got me at least, eh?” He was too embarrassed to continue and just left it at a cringing smile instead.

The other man didn’t even bother responding and instead just buried his face back into the sofa one last time. Vince decided to accompany him this time, sitting beside where he was curled up, trying his hardest not to disturb him.

Howard reacted to the sudden movement of the seat he was situated on and looked up, eyes meeting with those of the striking, yet incredibly beautiful man beside him. “Do you really mean that? Really?”

Vince threw his arm around his neck and pulled him into a hug. That was a good enough answer in Howard Moon’s book.

Not only was he now feeling entirely shocked, Howard thought he had managed to figure out what his feeling from earlier was. He could feel butterflies in his stomach and his mind was suddenly clear. This was the life he’d wanted. He was content.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope that was at least tolerable. 
> 
> Not a huge fan of how I ended it but it’s been sitting in my drafts for about a week. I just would’ve left it to rot had I not finished it sooner rather than later.
> 
> I’ll stop making excuses for my poor writing one of these days...


End file.
